


Finally

by rainandsnow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drama, First Time, M/M, Romance, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-28
Updated: 2010-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-06 20:16:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8767645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainandsnow/pseuds/rainandsnow
Summary: Dean has returned from Hell to a broken Sam. Can they finally figure out what they mean to each other? Love/Angst/Romance





	1. Chapter 1

  
Author's notes: Chapter 1/?

 

* * *

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Sam sat slumped in the sunken lawn chair, facing the ocean, no sign that he saw or recognized anything around him, the half empty bottle of cheap whisky dangling forgotten from his left hand. His attention seemed to be turned inward, his body projecting defeat and utter exhaustion. No outside force could penetrate his current state of empathy. Dean was gone…truly gone this time. 

 

Everything on Sam hurt, all the time. Nothing mattered and even drinking didn’t seem to lessen the torture anymore. He missed his brother every minute and now all he wanted was escape. 

 

There had always been Dean. 

 

He had been the only constant in Sam’s entire existence. Dean took care of him; Dean was his friend, his family, his protector…there had been more, more Sam imagined and wanted, but he supposed this was his punishment for wanting more than he ever should have. Wanting something that would have driven Dean away had he ever let that control slip just one moment and let it show. 

 

Still, the fact that now he would never even have that possibility hurt even more. "Dean" did he moan it or did it just resound inside his own head? Who cared anyway? Nothing mattered. And apparently he was too chicken shit to end it all, to send himself to hell to join Dean. Dean was the brave one, the strong one, and now Sam was supposed to just carry on without him? It wasn’t working. He was slipping away, and he didn’t care, in fact, he was hoping for oblivion.

 

"Sammy?" Sam knew he was truly losing it now, because his head came up and this time he could have sworn he heard it, that it was really Dean calling his name. He swiveled hesitantly, afraid to find out that this was just another case of wishful thinking, when across the expanse of sand, he saw Dean. Stumbling to his feet, his dire haste making him clumsy, Sam staggered toward this new torturous illusion. He didn’t care. An illusion of Dean was better than nothing, he would take it and relish it for however long it lasted. But when his running brought him close enough he could feel Dean, hope washed through him like sunshine after years of midnight.

 

Dean stumbled when Sam's large body slammed into him, nearly taking them both off their feet. But Sam’s heavy, muscled arms instantly surrounded him, lifting him momentarily off the ground, crushing him in a painfully tight embrace. A good pain. No way Dean would push him away, no way in hell.

 

Sam leaned back enough to look down into his brothers face, tears streaming from his eyes, “Dean”, he whispered hoarsely, his large hands beginning to run over his brothers back, as if reassuring himself that it truly was Dean, that he was intact and whole, and really standing here.

 

Dean’s mouth opened and Sam sighed, “Don’t say it, Dean. I know, no chick flick moments, but please, just don’t say it, not this time, just…just let me touch you.” Dean wasn’t sure now what he had intended to say, but it wouldn’t have been anything that would have caused his brother to move away, not even one inch. The feel of Sam’s huge calloused hands on his bare flesh, comforting, stroking, making Dean feel cherished was not something he would jeopardize losing for anything. No one had held Dean like this, had seemed to need to assure themselves of his safety…since when? Ever? Maybe before his mother had been killed, but that was a lifetime ago. 

 

Dean sighed, relishing the contact. No, he had no intention of pushing Sam away. He would suck this in, wallow in every second of it and store it all in his memory to take out and cherish in the thousands of days ahead when it wouldn’t happen again. Sam dropped his head to Dean's shoulder as he continued his stroking, his hands now traveling the length of Dean's arms from his shoulder down to his hands. Quiet sobs still wracking Sam’s body as he did so. 

 

Leaning back just slightly, Sam brought his hot hands up to Dean's shoulders again, and slid them down the front of his body, just inside his ribs. Dean leaned into the caress, his thoughts shifting slightly. When Sam's touch began to ascend back toward his shoulders Dean held his breath, hoping those fingers would skim over his nipples, even a light brush. His need for comfort melding with the overwhelming, soul deep need for Sam that he had felt for so long, but kept so rigidly in check. 

 

Sam's fingers stroked softly over Dean’s nipples, and Dean hoped he didn’t catch the swift intake of breath, or the slight jerk of his chest as it happened. 

 

Sam did notice and his face contorted minutely. ‘Stupid Sam, stupid. Be careful. Don’t push him away, disgust him in the same minute you get him back. Why do you have to try to take too much? Just cherish this moment when he lets you touch him without repercussion or jerking away, mumbling about how girly you are. Just love him, as you always have and don’t let him see the sickness inside your head and your heart.’ 

 

Sam's eyes flickered up to Dean’s, to make sure he wasn’t repulsed, and Dean’s own fluttered halfway open and Sam released his breath on a long sigh when he saw only acceptance, and…need? 

 

Dean had never seemed to need anyone or anything. He was an island, a rock, never wavering and never appearing weak. But Dean leaned into Sam, his eyes shifting away as if in embarrassment or shame. But he was definitely silently asking for more, or at least his body was. 

 

Sam thought he must need this, must need comforting, and reassurance, like anyone. He just never asked for it. Yes, that was it, for he surely didn’t need anything sexual, he got that in spades. In pretty much every town they stopped in, or so it seemed to Sam as he sat in motel room after motel room, nauseated, yearning and hurting and waiting for his big brother to stagger in, drunk and sated from yet another nameless girl. 

 

As long as Dean was allowing his touch, he would not release the sick freak inside himself. He would give the comfort Dean needed and never requested, and that would be enough. It was so much more than he had ever gotten or expected from Dean, and he intended to cherish it, memorize every moment and store them away. 

 

"Don’t stop, Sammy. Please touch me." Dean’s rough voice was barely a whisper, but Sam was close enough to feel the breath on his chest, raising goosebumps where it brushed his skin. Sam looked at Dean, his eyes full of yearning, thankful Dean didn’t raise his gaze to find the need laid bare there. 

 

He placed his hands along Dean's sides, just under his armpits and stroked downward, his fingers pressing deeper this time, digging into the muscle, then rasping over each rib as if counting them, his touch getting lighter as it approached Dean's waist. Then, as if of their own volition, his fingertips, feather light, traced the muscles from Dean's waist that ran inward above his jutting hipbones, toward his groin. Dean moaned and Sam jerked his hands away, uncertainty filling the look he raised to Dean's eyes. 

 

Dean inwardly cursed himself. ‘Damnit, how had that escaped?' Maybe he could write it off as pain, say something was wrong. He was glad he had diverted Sam’s attention from that area anyway, really, since that last touch had brought him from the semi hardness he had immediately achieved at Sam’s first caress, to full, heavy, aching arousal. Here he was asking for comfort from his brother, and he risked seeing disgust if Sam noticed he was rock hard from it. "Just sore, sorry Sam, didn’t mean to scare you." 

 

But Sam was on the edge. He was pretty sure it didn’t matter anymore why he had groaned like that, he only knew that the sound escaping Dean's lips had taken him from excited to throbbing hardness. He wasn’t sure he could stand it any more. He couldn’t stop touching while Dean would allow it, yet he knew he was on the edge of pushing into that realm that would repulse his brother and ruin everything between them. 

 

Maybe not. 

 

Maybe Dean, his Dean, who had loved him through all the messed up bullshit of their lives, would be able to write it off, to love Sam anyway, if he knew. He had seen all of the weakness in Sam’s life, had taken it all in stride, and had still come back, had still taken care of him, all of his life.

 

Sam's breath came out on a half moan half sigh, as he leaned forward just slightly, and laid his open mouth on the tanned, sweat misted skin just below Dean's shoulder blade. Dean jerked as if burned but didn’t pull away, his breath catching and holding as he waited, unsure what to think of what was happening, afraid to question, let alone hope. 

 

They stayed that way for several long, heavy moments before Sam's tongue flicked out to brush so lightly it merely disturbed the baby fine hair on Dean's skin. 

 

But Dean was so tuned in, so aware of every minute detail that he felt it. He stood immobile, afraid to even breathe, unwilling to move for fear that Sam would take it away, laugh it off like it was a joke, or just a mistake. 

 

He didn’t know what it meant, that soft brush of Sam's tongue, he only knew he wanted to feel it again, it and so very very much more. So he stood, hoping against hope that it meant what he wanted it to. 

 

But Sam pulled back and slowly raised his gaze to his older brother’s, his fingers shifting just slightly from where they rested ever so lightly at Dean's abdomen to skim just under the low slung waistband of his briefs. Dean sucked in a breath, wondering if Sam realized where those fingers were, and how just how achingly close they were to his raging arousal. 

 

He wanted to shift, to move enough so that Sam's fingers would brush his cock, needed to feel his hands on him there so badly, had needed it for so long. But fear rode him hard and he clenched his jaw tight, and waited, unaware he held his breath. 

 

‘Dean?" Sam's voice was soft, almost sounding like the hesitant teenager he used to be. But his eyes burned, begging for…something. Dean let out a long, weary sigh and thought ‘to hell with it’ and leaned his head up toward Sam’s, stopping just a hair away from touching their lips together. The last tiny movement would have to be Sam’s. Dean needed to know that he was aware of what was being asked. He did, love rushing through him almost as strong as fear. He moved that extra millimeter, brushing his lips against Dean's, feather-light, just barely brushing.

 

“God, Sammy,” Dean groaned, as his control shattered, grabbing the back of his brothers head, pulling him into a kiss that was urgent, almost painful in its intensity, fingers clenching in his brother‘s silky hair. Teeth clashed, then tongues melded, searching, demanding, needing and begging for what they had both desperately wanted for so long and somehow knew they would never have. 

 

Years of frustration and thwarted desire fueled that kiss, Sam slanted his head to get closer, to feel more, despite the pull of Dean‘s fingers in his hair, holding him tight, clasping and unclasping at his neck. 

 

Damn, the taste of Sam: hot and sweet and rich, and all Sam, innocent and sensual all at once. He couldn’t get enough, couldn’t get deep enough. Dean held his head, still so afraid Sam was going to freak out and pull away, yelling about what a freak of nature Dean was and what was he thinking?! Run away, leave him again, and God, but he didn’t think he could live with that.

 

But Sam didn’t try to pull away, instead pushing his hips into Dean's and they both gasped at the feel of their hard heavy cocks brushing together for the first time. Even through layers of cotton and denim it was scorching and gut wrenching. 

 

Finally. Finally.

 

They ground against each other frantically as they kissed, no devoured, each others mouths, hands roaming over backs. Sam’s hands skimming over taut muscle and sweat slick skin, until Dean pulled his head back slightly. Sam tried to follow, to keep the kiss intact. 

 

Dean smiled that half smile that made Sam's insides clench and twist, "I just want to feel you, Sammy. I need to feel your skin. God I need to feel your skin." his hand went to the side of Sam's waist, ducking under the soft faded t shirt, a sigh escaping as he finally experienced that soft skin over hard muscle that had taunted and teased him for so long. 

 

All those mornings when Sam would walk in the kitchen, bleary eyed and rubbing his exposed stomach, or reach for something, exposing a sweet strip of honey colored skin just above his jeans, or God, the times when he came out of the shower, just a low slung towel covering his hips, drops of water slipping over long lean muscle. Dean’s eyes had feasted on him every damn time, his tongue running unconsciously over his lips, imagining the feel, the taste, of Sam.

 

Skimming his fingers over skin, he pulled the shirt over Sam’s head, dropping it to the ground. 

 

“Dean.” Sam moaned as Dean’s hands began brushing over his torso, softly, then digging into muscle, caressing every inch of finally exposed flesh. Sam cried out when fingers brushed over his nipples, then settled to pluck and twist lightly, his eyes drifting shut in erotic pleasure. Dean ducked his head, his mouth replacing his fingers to nip and suck at Sam’s hardened nipple. Sam’s hands clenched almost painfully in the muscles of Dean's hips as he ground against him, needing more, wanting everything he had dreamed of for so long. 

 

“Dean. Please Dean, I need…" he breathed out heavily, his voice hoarse, "please."

 

"What Sammy," Dean was on fire and he felt that his heart was going to explode from his chest. 

 

Sam wanted him? Needed him even a fraction of the way his big brother had been dreaming of having him? He was terrified he was going to wake up to yet another nasty motel room with his brother sleeping so close and yet a million miles away. How many nights had he listened to Sam sleep? Turned his head to stare at him as he jacked off, biting his lip in an attempt to keep from moaning Sam's name? How many nights had he awoken to hear Sam jerking off, wondering who and what he was wishing for, yearning to cross that few feet and brush Sam's hands away, replace them with his own hands, or better yet, his mouth, his body? Too many to count. Now he just prayed that this wasn’t a dream, or if it was, that he wouldn’t wake up, ever. 

 

“What do you need, Sammy?" Dean rasped against his ear. 

Funny how much Sam had always hated that nickname, wanted to punch his brother every time he said it. Now he reveled in it, knew that it was his brother’s name for him, a connection that they, and only they, shared. “Tell me, and its yours, Sam. Just tell me."

 

"I need to feel all of you, I want to taste you, to explore you. I want so much, but I know I won’t last. I feel like I'm going to explode, shatter in a million pieces. I want it all, and I…I'm terrified that you will leave me if you know how much I want, the sickness inside of me for you." Sam hung his head, afraid to meet his brothers gaze, afraid to see rejection or God forbid, repulsion in his beautiful hazel eyes.

 

Dean's hand rested along the side of Sam's face, his thumb hooking along his jaw line, pushing his head up to look into his eyes. "Sam. I'm not going anywhere. I didn’t leave you this time, I was forced. You know that.” 

 

Dean leaned in, running his open mouth and teeth over the sharp edge of Sam’s jaw line, drawing a soft keening sound from the back of Sam’s throat, pulling back to look at him again, he continued, “You are the one who was able to walk away from me. Do you know the fear I feel everyday? Some nights I'm afraid to fall asleep, afraid that I will wake up and you will be gone. You walked away so easily, leaving me…" a small hitch in his voice betrayed the depth of his agony, and Sam melted against him, into him. 

 

"I'm sorry Dean. It was all just too much. I wanted you, burned for you, and thought you would hate me for how I wanted you. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I needed to get away, to try to feel human again, not just an extension of you, a leech sucking the life out of you and wanting what I could never have. But, we‘re both here, and I won’t lose you again. Just try to get rid of me…" he huffed out a laugh, but it dissolved into a tiny sob. "You are the only thing I have in this world. The only thing I want or need, if you love me half as much as I love you."

 

Dean's thumb stroked along Sam’s cheekbone, tracing the soft skin and jutting bone, "God, you are so beautiful Sam…you have no idea how much I need you. I wasn’t able to walk away. How could I think you are wrong, when I have wanted you, like some stupid fucking girl in high school, for so long. The difference was, I was willing to take whatever piece of you I could have, pretend for as long as necessary that I just loved you like a brother. Better that than nothing. I was so empty when you were gone, Sam."

 

"Sammy." Sam said softly.

 

"Huh?" Dean cocked his head slightly, watching Sam with a crease between his brows.

 

"I want you to call me Sammy. I'm your Sammy, always have been."

 

The happiness that spread over Dean’s beautiful face was like watching the sun rise to Sam, and he marveled that it didn’t hurt his eyes.

 

“Mine. My Sammy. Mine.” He leaned forward, burying his open mouth at the juncture of his little brother’s neck and shoulder, sucking and licking that gorgeous golden skin, unable to pull in enough of the taste. 

 

Sam’s deep moan only caused Dean to suck harder, to mark Sam, brand him as his own. He knew that no matter what tomorrow brought, he would be able to look at his brother and see his mark there, know his mouth had created that deep bruise. And the rest of the world would see it too, and that brought a gut deep satisfaction to Dean.

 

Sam dropped his head to the side, wanting to give Dean as much access to as much of him as he would take. He felt his stomach clench at the thought of that bruise, that proof that this was real, it had really happened.

 

Tracing his tongue up the side of his little brother's neck to again capture his mouth, Dean drank in the flavor of Sam, the delicious essence of this being that had always been the center of his world. Sammy, his little brother, his to protect and teach and guide and love. So much, so many ways he loved his little brother, and this was just the incredible culmination of all those years of want, of secret need. 

 

Skimming his fingertips down the slightly sweat covered muscle of Sam’s back, Dean brought his fingers around to the top of Sam’s jeans, glancing up to try to read what his eyes said. “Are you sure, Sammy? Is this really what you want? Please be sure.”

 

Sam gulped in a huge, unsteady breath and held it, exhaling after a few long seconds with a breathy. “You. I know…I’m sure, please Dean, just…please.” His hips hitching forward involuntarily.

 

Dean’s fingers were slightly shaky as he undid the button of Sam’s jeans, then slowly drug the zipper down over his massive, hot cock, then, placing both hands on the outside of his baby brother’s hips, he thrust both denim and the boxers underneath down to his smooth, lean thighs.

 

His mouth watered as his eyes took in the beautiful length of Sam’s dick, already moist with pre-come. He had known Sam was proportionate, he had seen him in his underwear plenty of times, but hard…well, hard Sam was bigger than Dean, and he had always been proud of what he was packing. 

 

He traced one long digit over the head, gathering the slick liquid and bringing it to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste, then linger over the salty, delicious flavor. “Mmmmm.” he moaned quietly, “I’ve wondered so many times what you would taste like, Sammy.”

 

Sam clenched his teeth to keep from spilling, from totally losing all control at the sight of Dean licking his come off that finger. “Oh…God, Dean…”

 

“You wanna know what it tastes like to me, Sammy?” Dean’s eyes held Sam’s unflinchingly. “Tastes like you belong to me.” And belonging to him, though that was more than Dean was ready to admit to. 

 

Sam’s hands dropped to frantically open Dean’s jeans as well, to finally get to see and feel the dick he had dreamed of since he was old enough to want, to know what it meant to desire. With the first touch, he sighed, breath blowing out as he wallowed in the sensation.

 

At the feel of Sam’s hand wrapping around his engorged length and pulling him from his jeans, Dean let out a groan and his eyes dropped closed, his fingers involuntarily gripping Sam tighter, bringing a moan to his younger brother’s lips as well. 

 

“Dean, I’m sorry, but I’m…ahhhh…I’m so close, I’m not gonna last,” Sam gritted out.

 

Bringing their cocks together, both brothers moaned deep. Finally.

 

Dean gripped and stroked them, rubbing them against each other, both of their hips jerking, frantic with their long pent up need. “Yes, Sammy, let go. Come for me, baby. Let me see how much you want me. Come.”

 

And Sam did, gasping and clenching his fingers hard into his big brother’s hips as his head started to drop back, only to be snapped back at Dean’s deep voice, “Look at me, I wanna see you…”

 

“Deeeean, God Dean, yesss…” Sam groaned, body jerking and twitching, as he stared into his brothers beautiful green eyes. 

 

“Now you, Dean, please, give it to me. Say my name, Dean, say it.” Wrapping his own larger hand over his brothers, he stroked just three more times before Dean’s come spilled over their fingers and bellies to mix with his own, Sam’s name like a benediction on his lips.

 

Finally.


	2. Chapter 1

Finally

Chapter 2

 

 

Dean leaned against the wall of the shower, thoughts running faster than the water. ‘What the fuck?’ He had no idea what had just happened. He was so scared that he had just ruined a lifetime of friendship, trust, love, hell--hero worship. 

 

His brother had seemed to need him, need what they had done, but had he? Or had Dean, with his incessant desire for something he should never want, let alone have, taken advantage of his brother’s happiness, his relief that he was back from hell and in one piece? 

 

He was so scared. The fear formed a tight knot deep inside his gut. What if he had made it through hell only to create his own hell on earth? Sam was his baby brother, his responsibility, and his life. Had been since the day his father had thrust a six month old Sam into his arms and told him to get him out of the burning house. He had clutched that sweet little bundle so tight, silently promising in his four year old head that never again would he let anything threaten Sammy. He had loved him with all of his being, in every way possible since that moment. Now had he become the monster that hurt Sammy?

 

He had explained what little he understood about his shocking return from hell to Sam on the walk back from the beach, both needing time to sort through things, unsure and confused about what had happened. 

 

His fingers went without thinking to the handprint on his shoulder. He still wasn’t sure he fully understood the responsibility and demands that came along with his release from hell. But, that would all come soon enough. Right now, he needed to focus on Sam, and on what just happened and how he should proceed from here.

 

Just remembering what happened between himself and Sam less than a half hour ago brought him back to semi arousal. ‘Get it under control, Winchester.’ He silently chastised himself, and tried to remember exactly what had been said during those out of control moments on the beach. 

 

Sam had been so happy to see him, so needy in his desperation to assure himself that Dean was alive and unharmed. Had Dean assumed things were different than they really were, taken that need out of context? Had he taken advantage of Sam’s vulnerability and let loose the lifetime of need for his brother that had built up inside him, that threatened to choke him sometimes?

 

Getting his arousal under control, Dean finished washing, shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. He threw a towel around his hips before glancing in the mirror over the sink. Scrubbing a hand over his face, and through his wet spiky hair he groaned and left the bathroom to confront the mess he had made.

 

Sam waited in the small kitchen, a frown of consternation knitting his brow. Dean had seemed completely freaked out. He had done it; what he had promised himself for years he would never do. Not five seconds after getting his beloved big brother back, he had lost it, showed Dean what a freak he was, and Dean, being Dean, had given Sam what he wanted, what he needed. 

 

Like always, he put Sam’s needs first and damn his own.

 

A small hiccup of sound hitched out of his chest as he listened to Dean shower, wishing he didn’t have to face this, wishing he wasn’t going to hear Dean tell him he couldn’t stay, not after finding out what a disgusting human being his brother really was. The fear that knotted his belly made him want to double over and keen out his pain. He couldn’t lose Dean again. He wouldn’t be able to live through it this time, already he could feel the emptiness creeping back in to strangle him.

 

When he heard the water shut off, he drew in a deep breath and sat up straighter. He had taken a quick shower in the second bathroom and was waiting, wearing a pair of low slung cotton sleep pants and nothing else. Now he wished he had put on a shirt. At the time he hadn’t even thought about it, but now he wanted the cover, to hide. Mostly he wanted to curl in on himself and die.

 

“Sam?” Dean’s whiskey voice was soft and quiet, but Sam jerked like he had been slapped, turning hesitant eyes to look at his big brother, then quickly glancing away. But not before taking in his brother’s beautiful damp body, covered only by that tiny towel. Knowing now what was there made it even harder.

 

The look Sam gave him caused a frisson of deeper fear to shimmer through Dean. His baby brother looked scared, vulnerable and unsure. Like eight year old Sam who used to call out for Dean when the sounds in the night disturbed his sleep. Dean wished he could just lift up his blankets and invite Sam in to sooth all his fears like he had back then. He wasn’t good at talking and now he had a lot of explaining and apologizing to do, possibly even some begging. 

 

How could he assure Sam that he would never again take advantage of his love for his big brother? Never force him to do things that put that fear in his eyes again? He should just go away, but he knew that wasn’t an option. No matter how much he knew he should, even deeper was the certainty that he would never have the strength to walk away. 

 

But Sam would. Sam would leave him now, like he had before, only this time it would be because he had used his brother, had taken out his own selfish, sick needs on him. Dean wanted to fall to his knees and beg. ‘Please Sammy, I will never let you see that ugly side of me again. Never force myself on you when you need reassurance and comfort. Just don’t leave me. Please God, don’t leave me. I can’t breathe without you. You are the only thing that kept me going while I was in hell. Your face was the only beacon of light in that endless dark.’ If he thought that would work, he would do it, he would fall to his knees like a supplicant and plead. He was no longer above that. But he also had no idea what to do, how to make things better. Above all, he wanted Sam to trust him and look up to him like he always had, and now that would never be possible again. 

 

“I’m so sorry, Sammy.” Was all he could choke out around the tightness of his throat. 

 

When Sam looked at him, confusion and something else, indefinable in his eyes, he found a way to continue. “I…oh God…it will never happen again. I wish I could take it back, but can we just forget it? Pretend it never happened? Please?” He didn’t even mind the pleading tone his voice had taken on. Didn’t care how weak he sounded, because hell, he was weak. And losing Sam would break him.

 

Sam pushed out of his chair, leaning his hands on the sink, his shoulders slumped, unable to look at his brother. Of course he wanted to forget, he was probably completely disgusted. “Forget? If that’s what you want Dean. Whatever…”

 

“Look,” pressing the palms of his hands hard into his eyes, Dean sighed as if in pain, “I know you can’t just forget immediately. But if you just give it a little time, just don’t run, don’t leave. And…and I wont hurt you like that again, I won’t…” He didn’t know what else to say.

 

Turning to face his big brother, Sam leaned his hips against the counter and searched Dean’s face with his gaze. “Hurt me? Dean, you didn’t hurt me. I know you want to forget, and I will try. But, you can’t take this one. You don’t get to take responsibility for my sick desires.” 

 

Dean met his eyes, confusion bleeding in to push out the fear and worry. “Your sick desires? I took advantage of the situation, Sam, I took advantage of you. You were so happy to see me.” He smiled ruefully. “So excited and sweet, yes, I said you were sweet, Sam,” His smile faded and twisted into a grimace, “and I took that opportunity and showed you a side of me that is wrong and you can’t know how sorry I am. I promised myself you would never know, and I let it slip…”

 

Realization dawned, along with a spark of impossible hope. Two paces of those long legs and Sam was toe to toe with his brother. “No. I wanted you. I wanted you to touch me. I have wanted you….” He trailed off, not sure how much information was too much. “I still want you. That wasn’t half of what I want, Dean. You just have no idea.”

 

Unable to process this information, still sure that it couldn’t be possible, Dean stood watching his brother, their faces separated by mere inches. “Because you want to make me happy? Because you think it’s what I want?”

 

“Damnit Dean…shit.” Sam ran a hand through his still damp mop of hair, but it settled right down over his eyes. “No, not because you want it. Please listen to me. Hear me. I want you, and I have wanted you, so much, for a long time. And it‘s not just sexual. You are my best friend, my hero, and the only person I‘ve ever truly loved.”

 

Dean raised a slightly shaky hand to follow the path Sam’s had just taken through the silky locks of dark hair on his brother’s head. He couldn’t imagine anyone finding out the stupid fascination he had with that hair. He wanted to run his fingers through it all the time, wanted always to breath in the scent of shampoo and Sam, bury his face in it. “Sam.” Dean’s voice broke as he wrapped his fingers in that hair, his heart filled to the point of bursting, he pulled his brother into his embrace. “Me too, little brother. I just couldn’t believe that you would stay, that you could stand the sight of me if you knew. But, you are the reason for everything in my life, always have been.”

 

‘Finally.’ Sam thought and sighed, his arms wrapped around his brother, burying his face in the curve of Dean’s neck, his heart so full he thought it might burst.

 

‘Finally.’ Dean smiled into Sam’s hair, he was finally where he had always wanted to be.

____________________________________________

 

 

Authors note: ok, so this is the end, unless you want the sex. I intended this to be the sex, but Sam and Dean needed the angst apparently. Let me know! Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

Dean wasn’t sure how long they had been standing in that position; him soaking in Sam’s presence, Sam leaning on him and rubbing his face in Dean’s neck. It only took a subtle shift in Sam’s stance to alert him to the change in the atmosphere. Sam seemed to wriggle into him, to try to get closer, almost as if he wanted to climb into his skin with him.

 

Sam smiled. It felt like he smiled with his whole body. Dean was holding him, not because he had a nightmare and needed comfort, not because he was sick or injured. Dean was holding him because he wanted to, wanted Sam. He brought his body closer to Dean’s, pressing against him from thigh to shoulder, rubbing their skin together lightly, and it wasn’t enough. He wanted Dean’s hands on him, wanted Dean inside him, as deep as he could get. 

 

“That for me, Sam?” Dean’s voice reverberated through Sam’s chest where they were pressed tightly together and he shivered. He was getting hard and Dean couldn’t help but notice. But that was ok, because he was ready for him to notice, ready for more. He wanted it all. Now.

 

Sam pulled his head back enough to look into his big brother’s shining green eyes, “Yes, it has been for a long time.” He watched Dean’s eyelids flutter as he took that in, glad he had seen that moment and the effect it had on Dean. 

 

Pulling his brother through the house and into the bedroom, Sam couldn’t restrain the butterflies that took flight in his abdomen. After a lifetime of finding out how easily nightmares could come true, he was going to finally get his dream instead.

 

They fell on the bed, laughing as their knees cracked together. Smiling softly, Dean reached out to run his knuckles along Sam’s flushed cheek. “You are really beautiful, little brother.” His eyes were clearer than Sam could ever remember them being and he wondered how long the shutters had been drawn to keep Sam from seeing inside. 

 

Drawing a deep breath, Sam smiled. “You are the beautiful one, Dean, always known that. Just makes me the lucky one cause I’ve always been looking at you.”

 

“How long?” 

 

Sam bit his lip. He knew what Dean meant, and a slight hitch of fear bled into his eyes, but now was not the time to give in to fear, he had come this far. Shrugging he admitted softly, “As long as I’ve known how to want. It scared me at first. You knew me so well, I was afraid you would see it. I would dream about you, and wake up, hard as hell…”

 

Dean felt a groan well up from deep inside, that bubble he had kept all his feelings in was seeping out. “Shit Sam…that’s so…”

 

“Pathetic?” Sam cocked a half smile.

 

“Hell no. It’s incredible. How else could it make me feel?” He paused and closed his eyes momentarily, “Well, its also really fuckin hot.”

 

When he saw Sam’s dimples, he almost groaned again, but damnit, he was starting to sound like a girl on prom night. 

 

“What about you? How long have you felt this way?” Sam was beaming at him, and just a little need was visible in those seeking hazel eyes.

 

Dean winced slightly, guilt crowding in for a moment, but he pushed it down. They deserved this happiness. They had both had shitty lives, they had given to everyone, and it was their turn, damnit. “I guess since about six months before you left for Stanford. I realized I was noticing how your body had changed, how you weren’t a skinny kid anymore. I suddenly had the urge to touch you…almost kissed you a couple of times when I came home drunk, you know.”

 

The idea of that pleased Sam, while it also made him just a little sad, thinking of all the wasted time, all the unnecessary guilt and angst they had both endured all these years. “Kiss me now, Dean. Show me how you wanted to touch me.”

 

Dean threaded his fingers into Sam’s hair, pulling his face in close, aligning their bodies, and brushed his lips over Sam’s softly, over and over, until Sam moaned. Then the kiss became deeper, more frantic. Sam’s fingers digging into the muscles of Dean’s lower back, Dean thrust his tongue deep into his brother’s hot wet mouth, sucking in the flavor, reveling in the essence that was his Sammy. 

 

Pushing Sam onto his back, Dean shifted to rise over his long, lean body, dragging his skin over Sam’s. Breaking the kiss, Dean licked the corner of Sam’s mouth before placing his open mouth over Sam’s jaw, then moving down his neck, licking and sucking his way down the long sinewy length. Reaching the bruise he had already made at the juncture of neck and shoulder, he drew it in again, sucking the mark darker. 

 

The pleasure pain of Dean drawing on that bruise that he was already aware of brought a hiss from Sam. Such a good pain.

 

“Mmmm, you taste so good Sam. Better than in all those fantasies, so much better.” He continued his exploration across Sam’s lean muscled shoulder before moving to his chest, nipping and licking and kissing every inch of skin he came to, before licking his nipple and placing a quick sharp bite there as well. 

 

Sam was on fire, he was starting to writhe beneath the weight of his brother, wanting to brush his cotton encased shaft against Dean’s now naked one. “Please, Dean…I need…please…just.”

 

Dean smiled against Sam’s skin. He was holding himself in check by a very thin thread, and Sam was threatening to snap that control with his words and that damn squirming he was doing. But if they started that, he wouldn’t last, and he wanted this time to be all the things he had dreamed about. Surely after coming less than an hour ago they could make this time last a little longer. 

 

“Stop squirming, Sam. I promise I will give you what you need. Trust me, ok? If you don’t stop squirming I’m gonna stop.” That stilled Sam immediately. Dean quickly raised his eyes to make sure Sam wasn’t unsure of what he meant. The slight uncertainty he saw there made him shake his head slightly. Seriously, could Sam really doubt what he felt now? 

 

He was so fucking hard it hurt, and Sam could definitely feel that. “Sammy. I want this to be perfect. I want to enjoy every piece of you. If you don’t stay still I will lose it, lose control. You make me too crazy, baby.”

 

Sam sighed, soaking in the words that flowed through him like pure happiness. His hands resumed their seeking exploration of Dean’s heavily muscled back, and he felt his eyes mist up and hoped no tears actually seeped out. But he stilled, because he wanted everything Dean was promising, wanted it to last forever.

 

Dean placed a kiss at Sam’s sternum and began to move further down his body, careful to lift his crotch away from Sam’s lest he create the friction he just warned Sam about. He really was afraid that one long stroke, one delicious rub and he would spill. 

 

Watching his brother move inevitably down his body sent a shiver of excitement through Sam. How many times had he seen this in his mind? How many times had he come just picturing these kinds of moments, never, never expecting to see them through open eyes.

 

Dean flicked his tongue into Sam’s navel before settling carefully against the bed, his chest resting between Sam’s open thighs. He sighed, “Right here, Sammy.” He placed a kiss just below Sam’s belly button, where a light dusting of hair began. “I wanted so many times to taste you right here.” He ran his lips over the taut golden skin from one hip bone to the other, tongue darting out to taste and then drag over the soft flesh, carefully avoiding the long hard length of Sam’s cock. Then he found a place, just inside Sam’s jutting hip bone and latched on, creating another dark bruise, another mark of ownership.

 

Soft panting sounds were starting to come from Sam’s throat. He watched his brother licking and tasting and, oh God, sucking his skin and he wanted to scream. It was building inside of him, it was all too much. He wanted everything, and yet everything he was getting was winding him so tight he felt like he was going to come apart.

 

“Now what?” Dean asked him quietly. He wanted to hear the words from Sam, hear that sexy voice ask for what they both wanted.

 

“Please Dean. Lick me. Suck me.” Sam begged, his hands clenching the sheets desperately.

 

The sight of Dean’s tongue coming out to touch his cock, to lap up a drop of pre come sliding down his length almost pushed Sam over the edge. Dean felt the slight shake in the thighs resting against his shoulders and he pulled back, wrapping his fingers tight around the bottom of Sam’s shaft. He watched his brother’s face, and listened to his body; and when he was confident Sam was under control enough, he leaned up and took Sam’s head into his mouth and sank down until he felt it hit the back of his throat, then created suction and dragged his tongue back up, releasing him. 

 

“Aahhhh,” Sam shook with his need. That felt like nothing he had ever felt before. No blowjob had ever come close to the feeling of Dean’s mouth on him, around him. Just knowing he was inside Dean would have had him coming if not for the tight grip Dean had on him, preventing his release.

 

Sam could see the question in Dean’s eyes and he was surprised somehow. Dean always seemed to know what he wanted or at least what he needed, so he hadn’t expected to have to say it. “I want you inside me, Dean…please. Now. Please, fuck me.”

 

Dean had to clench his teeth and close his eyes to get himself under control. Damn, but Sam tasted so good, and those words that he had jacked off so many times imagining were almost his undoing. He couldn’t bear the thought of being this close and then coming just hearing them and ruining this moment with Sam.

 

Fairly sure he had himself in check, Dean raised up, resting his hands next to Sam’s shoulders, and his knees on either side of Sam’s hips. “Lube?”

 

Sam drew a tube from the nightstand and handed it to Dean, his breathing shaky and harsh. “Hurry up, Dean. I want you so bad.”

 

“Shhh, Sammy. Keep talking like that and I’m not even gonna make it. Sorry…I’m just so fucking close, like some fucking virgin.” 

 

Dean wrapped his fingers around his shaft, squeezing himself as he had just done to keep Sam from going over, and spread the lube generously over himself, touching his cock as little as possible while making sure he was well coated with it. Sam watched Dean touch himself, his teeth almost biting through his lip in his excitement.

 

“Spread your legs for me Sammy.” Leaning back onto his heels, Dean squirted out another generous amount of the slick liquid onto his fingers, watching Sam draw up his legs and open for him. He tried not to think too much about it, because he was so dangerously close. He reached down and slid his fingers along Sam’s crease, finding and pressing one digit inside carefully.

 

Sam tensed up slightly at the invasion.

 

“Relax, Sam. I don’t want to hurt you, and you are so fucking tight.” Dean rubbed his left hand along the muscles of his brother’s hard stomach, soothing him before adding another finger once he felt Sam open up as he calmed. Twisting his fingers and spreading them, Dean ground his teeth at the feeling of Sam gripping him. He could just imagine what this was going to feel like surrounding his dick.

 

Once he was confident he wasn’t going to hurt his brother any more than necessary, Dean moved up, coming between Sam’s legs, moaning quietly at the sight of their cocks so close to touching and the realization that he was finally getting ready to make love to his brother. Shit, good thing Sam couldn’t hear his thoughts. Too much girly sounding shit inside his head right now. Like how fucking much he loved Sam and how fucking lucky he felt right now.

 

Dean ran his hand up the sweaty length of Sam’s thigh as he positioned himself. “Wrap those long legs around me, baby. Yeah, love your legs, Sammy. So fuckin hot.”

 

Sam’s head was thrown back on the pillow, his neck arched. He had had to stop watching Dean and what he was doing to get himself back under control, and he was shocked how after the initial shock of invasion how good it felt to have Dean’s fingers inside him, preparing him. 

 

“Look at me, Sammy.” Deans voice was harsh and gentle, and when Sam’s head came forward, his hair falling to his forehead, Dean touched his cheek softly. “You sure? I think it’s gonna hurt, and I don’t want to hurt you, but…”

 

Sam raised his own hand, laying it on Dean’s heart. “Yes. God yes…now, Dean…ahhhh.” He forced himself to stay relaxed as he felt Dean press into him, slowly. It did hurt, but then it felt good. The pressure melding into something more, and he pressed his heels into Dean’s ass, pulling him in.

 

“Holy fuck, Sam.” Dean growled. It was so tight, so hot inside, and he was exerting every ounce of control he possessed to go slow, not to just thrust in as his body was urging him to. Now Sam was pushing him, and he was gonna break if he wasn’t careful. “I’m trying to…be careful…if you keep doing that…”

 

“Stop being careful, Dean. Fuck me. Stop fucking teasing me, and just fuck me.” Sam urged.

 

Dean thrust the rest of the way in, embedding himself inside his little brother, feeling his balls pressed deep against Sam’s smooth tight ass. One more second and he was pulling out, feeling the tight drag along his length, until he felt the head of his dick reach the clenching pressure of Sam’s asshole, then pushing back in, still controlling his speed, until Sam keened and bucked under him. He had hit that sensitive bundle of nerves and Sam was now grinding up into him, “Yes, Dean, again. Do that again. Fucking move. Harder, Dean, harder.”

 

That was the end of the control. Dean slammed into Sam’s ass, his hips pumping wildly, and fucking that incredible sound out of his brother with every retreat. They were both jerking with no semblance of rhythm, and Dean knew he was close. So fucking close. So he wrapped his fist around Sam’s long hard cock and pumped, “I’m gonna come, baby. I’m…fuck…come with me Sam, come with me fucking your sweet ass. Come, baby…come.” 

 

Sam screamed Dean’s name as he shot thick, creamy jets across both their bellies and chests, and the clenching around Dean’s cock was almost painful for the three thrusts he lasted before releasing his own hot come deep inside his brother’s ass.

 

Dean kissed Sam, lowering himself to lay onto his brother, sighing and pressing his face into the crook of his neck as Sam wrapped his arms and legs around Dean. Dean’s fingers skirted up to lightly brush the bruise at his brothers neck. “Mine,” he whispered against Sam’s sweat damp skin. 

 

“Always,” Sam answered, his heart in his throat. “Always.”

 

Dean thought he might have dozed off for a few moments, and realized he was still laying completely on top of his brother, and suddenly worried that he was crushing him, but when he moved as if to roll off to his side, Sam just tightened his hold and grunted lightly. 

 

A chuckle escaped Dean and he raised his head to look at his brother, “Alright spider monkey, if you aren’t smothering, I’m good.”

 

Sam grinned back at Dean, the sight of those dimples bringing a flutter to Dean’s stomach. “I like this. I can feel all of you. You have always been so funny about touching, so I am going to enjoy it as long as you let me.”

 

“Aw hell, Sam. I wanted to touch you, wanted you to touch me, but…I just knew it would make me crazy, maybe break me…I…I just couldn’t touch you a little, does that make sense?” Dean felt himself flush. He was such a girl. He had just said all that hot, sexy shit and here he was blushing like a school girl from this admission.

 

Sam nodded, blinking to keep tears from forming in his eyes. He could already hear the taunts of ‘Samantha’, or ‘Francis’ he would hear if that happened.

 

They lay there soaking up the closeness, the sweetness of the moment until something intruded into Dean’s consciousness. Sam had had lube in his nightstand. Maybe there was someone? He stomach ached with the fear and jealousy that spread through him at that thought.

 

Sam felt his brother’s body tense up, and he ran his hand through Dean’s short, amazingly soft hair before asking, “What is it? What’s wrong, Dean?”

 

“Sam, I know I have no right to ask this. I just…well, if there is someone else in your life, I mean, it’s not like I have some claim on you….I need to know though…” His voice trailed off, and he tried to look convincingly unmoved by the question.

 

“What? What the fuck kind of question is that, Dean?” Sam sounded angry. “You think you went to hell and I just went out and got laid? Yeah. I didn’t think about you at all. I didn’t even miss you. I just shrugged it off and moved on. No big deal, big brother.” Sam pushed Dean, unwrapping his arms and legs from his brother.

 

Dean wanted to giggle, he felt so relieved. “Nuh uh. I’m still stronger, Sammy. Don’t make me prove it, not while we are all warm and sticky and sated.” He wrapped long fingers around his little brother’s jaw and forced him to meet his gaze. “I just realized you had lube awfully handy, and I wanted to be sure.” He pressed a hard kiss to those sweet lips, swollen from their recent activities.

 

It was Sam’s turn to blush, although not as surprising to either of them. “I use it to, you know…”

 

“Got it. So…have you ever? With a guy?” Dean asked, knowing he had no right to, but still hoping for a ‘no’.

 

And he got it. “Never. Never wanted to. I mean, obviously I slept with women, and I definitely cared for Jess, and I even tried to believe for a while that it was what I really wanted. But, somehow it never felt right. It’s just always been you, I guess.” He pause. “Have you?”

 

Dean grinned at him, “Yeah. One guy.”

 

Sam wasn’t sure why Dean thought this was a reason for smiling, because it kinda hurt. Stupid, but he wanted it to be special to Dean, too, not just one more thing he gave away without caring. “Oh. Anyone special, or just…?”

 

“Real special. Big Sasquatch of a guy…” Dean tried to look serious. 

 

Dean found himself flipped over in a heartbeat and under his younger brother before he knew what was happening. 

 

“Stronger, huh? Not so sure about that big brother.” Sam looked down on a face he couldn’t get enough of. “I’m glad. I hated all those fucking women, so much. I would have had a really hard time knowing that there were men too. I guess I’m kinda possessive, but…well, I really love you, Dean.”

 

Pulling his brother down and placing his lips close enough to brush the curl over his brother’s ear, Dean growled, “I was already thinking about what my next hunt would need to be if you said there had been another man, baby boy. You’re mine, all mine. I love you, Sammy, always have.”

 

Sam shivered, “And you are mine, Dean.” Finally.

 

________________________________________________________


End file.
